Page 109

“Why?” she questions, but there’s a whole world of words she isn’t saying. A whole world of hurt she’s been keeping from me for months.
“Because I love you, Declan. Let me in.”
“You shouldn’t—”
“Like hell I shouldn’t! Let me the fuck in!” Tears stream down my cheeks in rivulets, but I couldn’t care less. She can have every single one of them if it means we’re finally having this out. “I love you, baby. But we can’t fix this if you don’t let me in.”
She crumbles, breaking down as she falls to her knees.
I fall with her.
With her head in her hands, she cries harder than I’ve seen anyone cry before. I don’t know what the fuck to do other than secure her in my arms and hold her together as tightly as I can.
I hold her for a long damn time. Until her breaths grow steady, and eventually, she pulls away.
She raises her palms to my cheeks, framing my face like I usually do hers. Her hands are soft, shaking. “I know you love me. And I love you.So fucking much,”her words break apart, washing away in a flood of renewed tears. “But it doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true—you need to let me go. I can see what I’m doing to you, and I know you feel it, too, and I’m just—I’m not—I’m not good for you. Not right now. You deserve so much better.”
“Fuck that, Little D.” My heart twists violently. “Of course you are. You’re always good for me.”
“No,” she shakes her head, quick, jerky movements that force the tears racing down her cheeks to fall from her face. “How the hell can I be good for you when I’m not even good for myself right now?” she cries.
I swallow thickly, my own tears not slowing for even a beat. Pure, unfiltered fear grips its hand around my windpipe—and fuckingsqueezes.I wrap my own hands around her wrists, her palms still at my cheeks, and hold onto her as if my life depends on it. “Declan, no,” I manage to choke out.
But a calm conviction settles over her features, and it’s that look that rips me apart more than anything.
“You deserve someone who puts you at the center of their view,” she says, “and right now, I think I need to be the center of mine. I don’t want to stand in your way any more than I already have been while I do that. I don’t want to keep you from all the amazing things happening in your career—because that’s what they are, Jude—fuckingamazing.And you deserve every bit of it. You’re one of the best people I know—no,thebest. And I refuse to keep bleeding my darkness onto you because of it.”
Breaths are hard to come by. “What are you saying, Declan? Spell it out for me.” My gaze reaches into hers, begging her not to say what I’m certain she plans on saying next.
“I need some time. Space. A break from… us. I need to fix… me,” she says anyhow.
My heart splinters the fuck apart. Bleeding. Broken. Obliterated to pieces. And even still, I get it. I won’t stand in her way if it means she wants to get better. I won’t be the one to keep her from seeking out the help she needs. I wish like hell she would let me be here for her, support her, stand by her side while she does so, but I respect her enough to do what she’s asking. To know herself well enough to know what she needs right now, even if it isn’t me.
“Yeah. Okay. Take all the time you need.” Seven words have never felt so hard to speak.
The fracturing sensation in my chest reaches its limit. Lungs shattered. Heart shattered. Everything left fucking shattered.
Chapter Thirty-One
Declan
Three months later, I’m boarding a plane back to New York.
I spent the entire summer in Oklahoma, with Addy and the Masons, getting my life back on track.
A new healthcare plan, new doctors, new prescriptions, and a new therapist that have all helped me view myself, the things I’ve been through, and my mental health in a brand new way. I won’t be wavering about how seriously I take care of my mind and my body from here on out, and now, I’ve got the resources and support behind me to make sure that I do, too.
While I’ve had years to separate myself from the ugliness of the life I left behind, my hardest lesson to learn was that those hurts were still lingering beneath the surface, buried underneath the soil of time.
Abandonment issues brought on by my parents.
Feeling like I wasn’t enough—not being able to trust, deep down, that the people I loved would stay.
The accumulation of everything that happened in a few short months dug these issues up and brought them to the surface, forcing me to face them and so much more. I’m not proud of the way it all unfolded, but I am happy it did, regardless.
Humans are imperfect; that’s what makes us beautiful. And finally, I’ve learned to believe that about myself, too.
I can’t change the things that have happened to me, and the many ways they’ve affected me, but I can change the outcome. I can choose who I want to be, and what I want my life to look like, on the other side of it all. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.